Page Six

nd I can see it now and there's blood on it. I'm standing there with my welding helmet on and my arc rod in my hand. Toady is moving fast and grunting. He's got one of his huge hands around Boy's neck pressing his head into the hood, the other flat on the small of his back. Each time he pulls out I can see the blood on him and running down his thighs.

I'm rolling the welding kit past him like it's not happening. I'm just gonna do the spot-weld and get the hell out. It'll all be back to normal tomorrow. But there's nothing to drown out the sound and then I'm yelling at Toady, "Stop it goddamnit! You're hurting him!" which Toady ignores completely and so I kick him in the calf, hard. His other leg shoots backwards and catches me in the shin. He's got boots on and it hurts like a motherfucker but I kick him in the same spot again. The boy's still whimpering and screaming.

This time Toady whips around, blood spraying off his torso, and he sends a ham fist right for my head. It would have shattered my face if I didn't have the helmet on. As it is the thing makes a splintering sound and my head flails backwards. I tumble into a shelf behind me. Toady is lurching forwards like a Frankenstein. I see the boy run around the side of the Mercedes and jump into the driver's seat.

As Toady gropes towards me and is about to find my neck I raise my gloved hands to push him away. His face twists into a gum-splitting grimace. He goes stiff as a board and topples sideways. I see that I have the arc rod in one hand and the grounding clamp in the other. I just ran 460 volts through Toady's body.

The Benzo roars as Boy stomps down the accelerator. Staring at Toady's slumped body, I see the Mercedes race over him and lurch into me. It pins me to the shelf and takes my legs off at the knees. It's really weird to be slumped on the ground next to Toady and have the last thing I see be my lower legs, as they come unstuck from the retreating fender and glow in the headlights, the boy punching the car backwards through the bay doors, disappearing into the twilight.

Yves Jaques can be reached at: yjaques@tiscalinet.it